


Play By Numbers

by dracoqueen22



Series: Play By Numbers [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Character Study, Dom/sub Undertones, Introspection, M/M, Post-Dark Cybertron, Pre-MTMTE Season Two, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, canon background, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8144878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: Rodimus is the Prime that never was. Starscream is the leader no one wanted. Together, they just might be enough, at least for each other.





	1. Scars and Souvenirs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAirCommand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAirCommand/gifts).



For once, he wanted to go somewhere no one would recognize him. Where no one knew his name or his face or the reasons behind the number on his palm.  
  
Sunstreaker had recommended this place. He said the patrons here were always so drunk that they didn't know their own names much less anyone else's. It was the perfect place for anonymity and luckily, it was still standing after Shockwave's attempt to do whatever it was he was trying to do.  
  
Even now, Rodimus didn't understand it.  
  
The whole building's foundation was crooked. It did not look safe. It reeked of decay and desperation. Rodimus was certain two of the unconscious piles of metal out front might have been mechs. Their current faction didn't even matter given their condition.  
  
The place was perfect.  
  
Rodimus squared his shoulders and walked inside. No one looked up. No one acknowledged him. No one looked familiar.  
  
Except, Rodimus realized with a sigh of frustration, for the dark red Seeker at the bar. Of all the places in all the ruins of New Iacon, he had to find the decrepit oilhouse where Starscream had come to sulk.  
  
He almost whirled on a heelstrut and walked right back out. But if Starscream could drink here in relative anonymity, so could he. That was worth sticking around for. Might as well get this over with.  
  
Rodimus strode up to the bar and climbed onto the empty stool to Starscream's right. He ignored the unfriendly waves radiating from the Seeker. He'd endured worse.  
  
“So what's good here?” he asked.  
  
Starscream visibly stiffened. His shoulders hunched. His head turned toward Rodimus as though he couldn't believe his audials.  
  
“What,” he said through gritted denta, “are you doing here?”  
  
Rodimus signaled for the bartender's attention. “Getting a drink, same as you.” The dirty mech limped over. “Can I have a Toxic Turnover?”  
  
Starscream snorted a ventilation. “You want something that fancy you should have gone elsewhere.”  
  
“No, thanks. This place is better.”  
  
A glass slid across the counter in front of Rodimus. The sickly green color was not the right shade for his engex, but it would do. Rodimus took a sip that burned on the way down.  
  
Ugh. Disgusting.  
  
He sucked down the rest as fast as possible so as not to taste it. The sludge oozed its way to his tank, and sat in there like a lead weight.  
  
Perfect.  
  
“Wow,” Starscream said. He smirked as he looked at Rodimus. “I take it the infamous Rodimus-not-a-Prime is having a bad day?”  
  
Rodimus slanted Starscream a look “You're here, too.”  
  
“That I am.” Starscream signaled for another drink and angled toward Rodimus. “Care to tell me why?”  
  
Rodimus snorted. “Like I know what's going on in your head.”  
  
Another cup of engex was nudged toward him. Rodimus didn't even hesitate to suck it down, though he was quick about it. This stuff was awful.  
  
“I was actually talking about you, but I recognize a diversionary tactic when I see one.” Starscream sipped at his own engex. “So what's your poison then? Overcharge? Meaningless frag? Illegal stimulants that would make your second in command lose his mind?”  
  
Rodimus stared at him. “None of the above.”  
  
“That's a shame,” Starscream purred. “It looks like Rodimus took all the _hot_ out of _Hot Rod_.”  
  
Rodimus' mouth fell open. “That's not-- what are you even-- how overcharged are you?”  
  
“Just enough not to care anymore.” Starscream finished off his drink and smacked his lips. “So. Wanna frag?”  
  
Rodimus blinked. “Are you serious?”  
  
Starscream gave him a long, lingering look. “If you're anything like your reputation, yes. I want cheap and meaningless, and it seems you've got that to offer.”  
  
The implication stung more than Rodimus thought it would. He'd never been particularly ashamed of most of his past, but combined with mistakes he'd made as of late, it painted his entire life in a very unfavorable light. He didn’t need Starscream insinuating he was some kind of easy lay, on top of being a failed leader.  
  
Rodimus flinched. “Wow. With that ringing endorsement, how can I resist, Screamer?”  
  
Crimson optics flashed. “Do not call me that.”  
  
“After you called me an easy lay, I'll call you whatever I want.”  
  
“So it's not true?”  
  
“Oh, it's true.” A little more than he was comfortable with. But that's what happened when you went seeking approval from others and used your frame as currency. “Doesn't mean I want to hear it from you.”  
  
Starscream snorted again. “Whatever you say.” He slid off his stool, stretching his arms over his head. “Enjoy your engex.”  
  
“And where are you doing?”  
  
“To find someone interested in what you turned down.”  
  
Rodimus sighed and went after him. It wasn’t the distraction he intended to find, but it was better than sitting here in this dingy bar. “Wait.”  
  
“For a pity frag? No thanks.”  
  
He caught up with Starscream just outside the door.  
  
“I don't do pity frags.” He crossed his arms, giving the Seeker his most contrary look.  
  
Starscream stared back. His wings twitched.  
  
“All right,” Starscream said with a slow denta-baring grin. “Your place or mine?”  
  


0o0o0

  
  
Neither, as it turned out.  
  
Starscream's room had been destroyed when the metrotitans fought. And Rodimus wasn't going to bring _Starscream_ aboard the _Lost Light_. His crew barely tolerated him as of late, much less the former Decepticon Air Commander.  
  
The room they found was dirty and in shambles, but it had a berth, and Rodimus wasn't planning on sleeping. He wanted overloads and to lose himself in them. He wanted something he dare not name because Rung would have all kinds of words to say about it. Perhaps even unfriendly ones.  
  
Rodimus knew he deserved every last one of them.  
  
“You didn't come here to brood, did you?”  
  
Rodimus planted his hands on his hips. “Are you planning on snarking at me all night?”  
  
“Do you not know who you've invited to berth?” Starscream arched an orbital ridge.  
  
Rodimus' optics narrowed. “I'm starting to think it would be better if you didn't talk.”  
  
Starscream lounged on the berth as though it were a throne and not a flimsy piece of metal probably infested with rustmites. One hand lazily stroked his interface panel like the shameless creature he was.  
  
Rodimus knew shameless. He was the epitome of it. But Starscream was giving him a run for his shanix.  
  
“Can I make the same request of you?” Starscream asked, his fingers working circular patterns over his panel. “Moans and screams are acceptable, of course.”  
  
Rodimus rolled his optics. “Don't you think highly of yourself,” he muttered.  
  
Nonetheless, he was drawn to the berth and the hypnotic motions of Starscream's fingers. Once he looked past the snark and smirk, Starscream was a sexy aft Seeker. He was sleek, larger than Rodimus, and with a frame built for battle. That he wore it all with a lazy grace added to the allure. And those wings! Rodimus wanted to get his mouth on those wings and if he was lucky, Starscream's denta on his spoiler.  
  
“Comes with the territory. Besides, you're one to talk.” Starscream shivered as he rubbed hard on his panel and then crooked a finger at Rodimus. “Get up here before I finish this myself.”  
  
Rodmus smirked. “You should have plenty of experience with that.”  
  
“Ha! And how many of your crew know a bit too much about their captain?”  
  
Right for the intake. That was Starscream in a gearbox.  
  
Rodimus pulled himself onto the berth and crawled over Starscream on hands and knees.  
  
“Point,” he conceded and Primus, he was getting hot just looking down at Starscream. “You got a preference, Seeker, or should I just 'wing' it?”  
  
“And the flyer puns begin.” Starscream's optics rolled. He reached down, hand stroking Rodimus' increasingly hot panel. “Let's see if your spike is worth anything first. Unless you've got an aversion I need to know about.”  
  
Rodimus' fingers scraped the berth cover. “None.” He concentrated, triggering his spike panel to cycle open. “Haven't met I kink I don't like yet.”  
  
Starscream's talon tip nudged in the housing, teasing the head of his spike. Rodimus shivered and rocked his hips down toward the single digit. It traced the head again, briefly toying with his transfluid slit, and Rodimus’ backstrut tingled.  
  
“We'll see about that,” Starscream purred. One hand curled around Rodimus' head, pulling him down so Starscream could nip at his audial. “All you have to do is say 'no'.”  
  
Rodimus groaned. “Not gonna happen.” His spike emerged into Starscream's waiting grip.  
  
The pad of the Seeker's thumb rubbed against the head. The tip of his talon teased the transfluid channel slit again. Rodimus' backstrut arched, and he drew in a sharp vent. Lust hit him like a rifle shot. He turned his head to grab Starscream's lips, but the Seeker was too fast.  
  
“No kissing?” Rodimus asked with a pout that wasn't entirely feigned.  
  
“You haven't earned it yet.” Starscream's hand slid down his spike, grip perfectly firm.  
  
Rodimus shivered. He shifted his weight to one bent arm and thrust a hand between their frames. He found Starscream's panel and rubbed it the way he'd seen Starscream do earlier. A low rumble rose from Starscream's engine, panel snapping aside to allow Rodimus' fingers to plunge into his valve.  
  
Starscream was already dripping, his valve clutching at Rodimus' two fingers. His field flared with arousal as he discovered Starscream's anterior node and pinched it.  
  
“Eager are we?” Rodimus purred.  
  
Dripping heat swallowed his fingers. He felt the rippling clench of calipers against his knuckles. Rodimus' spike throbbed, eager to slide into the welcoming damp of Starscream's valve.  
  
Starscream gave him a raspy chuckle. “Don't flatter yourself, Rodimus.” He shifted and Rodimus found himself with a leg wrapped around his waist, tugging him down.  
  
Starscream's fingers pulled his spike toward that waiting valve. Rodimus hastily moved his own out of the way, but he couldn't let an opportunity slide. He brought them to his mouth for a taste, sucking his fingers clean.  
  
Hmm. Not bad.  
  
Rodimus gripped Starscream's hip with his still damp hand. The head of his spike nudged at Starscream's rim. Charge crackled between them.  
  
“Ah, this is gonna be good,” Rodimus moaned.  
  
He leaned down for a kiss, remembered Starscream's earlier evasion, and tucked his face against Starscream's intake instead. This was nice, too. Starscream smelled of heat and polish. Rodimus nibbled on his intake cables. He got a good taste as his spike slid into that grasping heat.  
  
Primus that was good.  
  
Rodimus sighed a ventilation when he felt Starscream shiver beneath him. The Seeker's valve spiraled down on his spike as Rodimus pushed deeper, making for some nice friction. Rodimus kneaded Starscream's hip. His spike throbbed, incrementally pushing deeper to savor each inch.  
  
“Faster!” Starscream snapped, his heel smacking against the back of Rodimus' thigh. “This is a frag, not a dance.”  
  
Rodimus nipped his intake in retaliation. “Maybe I just like the way you feel on my spike.”  
  
“And maybe I'll just _take_ what I want!” Starscream clutched at his shoulder, talons scraping curls of paint.  
  
Battle scars. Rodimus planned to brag about them later. And then he realized he didn't have anyone to brag to and faltered.  
  
Easy enough to climb back up. He had an armful of sexy Seeker.  
  
“Wait your turn,” Rodimus panted.  
  
“Fragging... Autobots!”  
  
Starscream tensed.  
  
Starscream heaved.  
  
Rodimus' world went topsy-turvy. His back smacked against the berth, spoiler chiming a sharp sting. He hissed in short-lived pain before the weight of a Seeker landed on top of him. Starscream's hands planted on his ventrum, his valve sinking back down on Rodimus' spike in one fell swoop.  
  
“Primus!”  
  
Rodimus gasped. His hips juttered up as he clamped his hands on Starscream's thighs. He struggled to plant his feet on the berth. Starscream rolled his hips with gleeful abandon, valve rippling around Rodimus' spike. His fingers scraped at Rodimus' ventrum, the rasp of metal on metal unexpectedly arousing.  
  
“You really have no patience,” Rodimus panted. It was starting to feel like he was little more than a vehicle for Starscream's pleasure. Not that he was opposed just... unexpected.  
  
“You laid the challenge. I answered.” Starscream smirked and flicked his glossa over his lips.  
  
Rodimus' mouth filled with lubricant. He liked kissing. And Starscream was not cooperating.  
  
“Fine,” he bit out and slid his hands up, thumbs seeking where their frames joined. More importantly, he sought Starscream's nub and knew he'd found it when crimson wings shuddered.  
  
“We'll see who wins,” Rodimus declared and pinched Starsccream's anterior node.  
  
He earned a small gasp. Starscream leaned forward, weight bearing down, his valve greedily sucking Rodimus' spike.  
  
It was... amazing, Rodimus was forced to admit. He so rarely used his spike because valve overloads were better and his lack of use showed. Charge gathered along his length and heat built within his array faster than he was willing to admit to himself.  
  
Starscream's valve nodes lined perfectly with his spike receptors, pleasure lighting Rodimus' sensory net like fireworks. He thrust up into Starscream as eagerly as the Seeker slammed down on top of him.  
  
Fast. Fierce. Rough.  
  
Everything, apparently, Starscream wanted.  
  
Starscream shifted again. He tilted forward, braced his weight on his knees, and found Rodimus' spoiler. His hands stroked the length of it. His fingers found the tips.  
  
Rodmus moaned. His ventilations stuttered.  
  
Starscream pinched the sharp-angled tip.  
  
Lust shot like a lightning bolt. Rodimus bucked into Starscream as he overloaded with a shout, some mangled glyph that was in no way translatable. His fans spun madly as he spurted into Starscream's valve.  
  
Rippling calipers worked him thoroughly, drawing out the last throbs of release. Rodimus whined, his hands kneading at Starscream's thighs. That was the fastest he'd overloaded in ages.  
  
“Done already?” Starscream harrumphed, upper lip curled with disdain. “I shouldn't be so surprised.”  
  
Rodimus curled his hands around Starscream's thighs. “I'm just getting started,” he insisted. “So come here.”  
  
He tugged.  
  
Starscream looked confused. His hands wavered on Rodimus' spoiler.  
  
“You can't tell me you've never had someone lick you out,” Rodimus scoffed. “Come on. Up here.” He tugged again.  
  
“You...” Starscream huffed. “Autobots.”  
  
Somehow, it always sounded like a curseword when Starscream said it. Or muttered it, rather. But at least he cooperated. He clambered over Rodimus until his dripping array hovered over Rodimus' mouth. He smelled his own release and the heat of Starscream's arousal and Rodimus moaned.  
  
“Better,” he said and he curled his arms under Starscream’s thighs, tilted the Seeker forward, and lapped a wet stripe up the center of Starscream's valve.  
  
Starscream's vents hitched. His valve clenched. Lubricant splattered Rodimus' face. The scent of it flooded his olfactory sensors. Rodimus purred. He dove in, sucking at Starscream's valve, a mix of transfluid and lubricant spilling into his mouth. Starscream was dripping and messy and Rodimus loved it.  
  
He sought Starscream's nub and gave it a tentative nibble. Starscream bucked, grinding down. His node throbbed.  
  
“A-adequate,” Starscream panted. His hips danced.  
  
Rodimus rolled his optics and returned his attention to the glittering biolights around the rim of Starscream's valve. They demanded to be tasted and so Rodimus obliged. He traced them with his glossa, caressed them with his lips, and scraped them with his denta.  
  
Starscream outright moaned and one hand grasped at his head, shoving Rodimus' face closer. He ground down, somewhat rude, but given the rapid pulse of Starscream's biolights, Rodimus gathered it was a good thing.  
  
He tightened his grip on Starscream's thighs and pulled, at the same time shoving his glossa deep into Starscream's valve. He moaned, letting the vibrations carry against Starscream's nodes. Starscream shuddered as charge licked from his array. His grip tightened on Rodimus' head.  
  
He was close. Rodimus could taste it. So he lapped at Starscream's valve and suckled his anterior node with vigor.  
  
Starscream danced and shrieked as he overloaded. He ground down hard, lubricant flooding Rodimus' mouth and drenching his face. His own charge returned with a vengeance, roaring through his system in a blaze of heat. He was courteous enough to enjoy Starscream through the tremors of overload however. Because now his own valve was aching and he needed something within him asap.  
  
“Well Autobot,” Starscream panted, shifting his weight back to his knees, “that's certainly a better use for your glossa.”  
  
Rodimus rolled his optics. “Happy to serve, your majesty.” His face felt sticky, highlighting the sensuous winding of heat throughout his frame. “Now get off me.”  
  
Starscream smirked. But instead of clambering off, he shimmied down Rodimus' frame, working himself between Rodimus' thighs.  
  
“Or I could get you off,” Starscream purred, and he lazily dragged his glossa up the length of Rodimus' partially stiffened spike.  
  
His backstrut arched off the berth as he gripped the covers. Rodimus groaned, tingles spreading outward from his spike.  
  
“Whatever,” he panted and fisted the berth cover, or what was left of it. “Just do something.”  
  
“Impatient brat,” Starscream said with a laugh. He ex-vented down on Rodimus' spike, the wash of damp heat making Rodimus' spike twitch.  
  
He moaned again and shouted when Starscream's mouth finally closed around the head of his spike, the Seeker's glossa flicking at his transfluid slit.  
  
“Ah!” Rodimus gasped, backstrut arching as Starscream took him deeper, inch by inch, slowly swallowing him down. “Yes, frag it! Just like that.”  
  
Starscream's glossa laved his entire length, up and down. He pulled back, swirled his glossa around the tip, and then slurped over it again. The sounds were wet and messy and ridiculously lewd. It was music to Rodimus' audials.  
  
The cheap berth cover tore under Rodimus' grip. His thighs trembled as he pushed his legs further apart and canted his hips upward. He rocked into Starscream's mouth. He looked down, saw those lips wrapped around his spike, and a shock of lust bolted through his frame.  
  
Fingers tickled at his valve, circling the rim of it first before two plunged inside. They curved just right, rubbing hard at the first line of nodes. Rodimus shuddered.  
  
“Right there,” he moaned. “Harder, Starscream.” His feet dug into the berth. His spoiler pushed against the padding, adding to the torment. “Frag, yes.”  
  
Starscream chuckled around his spike and swallowed him deep again. He flexed his intake against the head of Rodimus' spike. His optics rolled back as a shudder wracked his frame. Jolts of ecstasy shot through his lines and scorching heat danced down his backstrut. Lubricant dribbled out of his valve as Starscream's fingers continued to wreak havoc on his sensors.  
  
Rodimus rocked upward, but Starscream kept moving with him, preventing Rodimus from thrusting any deeper into the Seeker's mouth. It was a special kind of torture and it only made him pant harder.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Rodimus groaned, and no, it wasn't a whine. “Just frag me already, won't you?” He clenched down on Starscream's fingers, giving Starscream his steamiest berth look. He had it on good authority that it made him irresistible.  
  
Starscream nipped at the tip of his spike, and Rodimus' aft rose off the berth in shock. It wasn't pain, not quite, but it was another jolt to the system. He shuddered, pre-fluid leaking free, and Starscream drew back, though one of his thumbs rubbed a long circle around Rodimus' external node.  
  
“Turn over,” he said.  
  
Rodimus looked down at the Seeker between his legs, whose mouth was not where Rodimus expected it to be. Who was talking when he should have been putting his glossa to good use on Rodimus' spike. Whose thumb continued to make steady circles on Rodimus' node, his hips rising and falling to the rhythm of Starscream's touch.  
  
“What?” Rodimus demanded. “Why?”  
  
Starscream smirked and flicked his glossa over his lips. “Because you might brag too much for my taste, but you do have a nice aft.”  
  
Rodimus squinted. “.... Thanks?” He honestly wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but whatever.  
  
If turning over on his knees meant Starscream would frag him then fine. It wasn't like he was opposed to taking it from behind. The right angle and Starscream would pound all over his ceiling node.  
  
Starscream rubbed over his anterior nub again, prompting another wash of lubricant from his valve. Rodimus ex-vented noisily and loosened his grip on the berth.  
  
“Tease,” he accused as he laboriously turned over, narrowly missing kicking Starscream in the head. The Seeker dodged at the last second, however.  
  
Pity.  
  
Rodimus arranged himself for his comfort, on his knees and elbows, his nice aft pointed toward Starscream. His spoiler twitched with sensation as cool air brushed over his exposed components. Surely Starscream couldn't ignore this display, right?  
  
Rodimus grinned and shifted his weight to one elbow. He reached down with his right hand, ignored his straining spike for the moment, and flicked his anterior node. His calipers twitched with pleasure.  
  
His grin widened, ventilations quickening, as he continued further. He pushed his fingers into his valve and then spread them, holding himself open. He felt lubricant trickle free, over his fingers and down into his wrist. He knew that, like this, Starscream couldn't help but look at his flickering biolights.  
  
“Take me,” Rodimus purred, giving his aft a purposeful twitch. “If you think you can.”  
  
Starscream chuckled. The berth wobbled as he rose up, the heat of his panel aiming toward Rodimus' valve.  
  
“A challenge then?” he said.  
  
“A dare,” Rodimus retorted.  
  
Rodimus jerked as Starscream's palm skittered over his aft. The sudden slap both shocked and aroused, and Rodimus moaned. His dripping fingers slid free of his valve, rubbing over his anterior node with greater pressure. Charge skittered through his valve, turning his lines molten with need.  
  
“Knew you were a kinky fragger,” Starscream observed and he smacked his palm on Rodimus' aft again, even as his other hand gripped Rodimus' hip.  
  
He rocked forward, rubbing himself against the back of Rodimus' thighs. His spike slid through the wetness clinging to Rodimus' valve folds, teasing him without actually entering him.  
  
Fragger!  
  
Rodimus' engine whined. “Yeah, and I'm gonna get myself off if you don't hurry up,” he panted, two fingers taking his anterior nub and pinching it. His hips jerked forward.  
  
Starscream dragged him back, the tip of his spike nudging against Rodimus' valve. Rodimus moaned out of sheer anticipation, his calipers rippling. He pinched harder at his node, hard enough to sting, the flash of pain the perfect counterpoint to Starscream suddenly plunging into him, lighting up his inner nodes all at once.  
  
Rodimus shoved his face into the berth and howled. He dropped his hand from his array and gripped at the cover, panting air through his mouth as Starscream set up a brutal pace. He shoved in and out of Rodimus' valve as though trying to frag him through the rusty berth.  
  
Oh, Primus. Yes. This was what he wanted. What he needed. A punishing pace that left him with nothing, not even air to intake. Rodimus snarled, biting at the stained cloth, his fingers fisting it as Starscream plunged into him, again and again, his array chiming at Rodimus' aft.  
  
Starscream was saying something. Or muttering. Rodimus didn't know. He wasn't paying attention to whatever vain thing he said. Starscream's voice was a buzz in his audials compared to the rasp of his spike in and out and in and out of Rodimus' valve. His grip on Rodimus' hips tightened, talons prickling at his cables, and the deepest thrust struck hard at Rodimus' ceiling node.  
  
He thanked Primus that the berth swallowed his shriek of pleasure. His knees dug into the ratty mattress, tearing new furrows, as he shoved his aft back at Starscream and every resultant thrust pounded at his ceiling node.  
  
Rodimus' spoiler quivered. All he could taste was the gross berth, the stained cloth sticking to his glossa. It didn't matter though. None of it mattered. Because pleasure spiked through his entire frame in a rushing wave, it was an onslaught of heat and need and it swallowed Rodimus whole. His entire frame was caught up in it as it picked him up and tossed him overboard.  
  
He whited out, something, he didn't know. Overload stripped him raw, made his vocalizer spit static. He convulsed beneath Starscream, spike spitting transfluid even as his valve cinched down tight enough to trap Starscream inside of him, the Seeker's flared spike caught on his calipers. He felt it then, the wash of Starscream's release over his over-sensitive nodes and Rodimus moaned as a second, smaller overload swallowed him whole.  
  
Oh, Primus.  
  
Frag, frag, frag, frag.  
  
Rodimus' cooling fans snapped to life as his vents wheezed. There was a hand on the back of his head, not pushing, but trying to turn his head.  
  
“Mrrrrr,” he managed as he turned his head, panting from his oral cavity as his vents rattled. Languid heat seeped through his frame, and Starscream was still inside of him.  
  
No. Starscream was also draped over him, his weight very welcome. Rodimus loved it when his partners covered him, when he was pressed beneath their weight. He squeezed down on Starscream's spike, trying to keep the softening unit in his valve. He didn't want to feel empty so soon.  
  
“Are you alive, Autobot?” Starscream purred into his audial as Rodimus gradually unclenched his hands from the covers.  
  
He forced his optical shutters open, the room around them a dim blur. “I'm not dead yet,” Rodimus managed with a burst of static. He wiggled his aft. “Was good.”  
  
“Must've been. Given the way you screeched.” Starscream huffed a ventilation and the weight on Rodimus' back started to withdraw.  
  
“Wait!” Rodimus all but shouted, working one hand free and flailing it blindly behind himself to grab at Starscream. “Don't, um, don't move.”  
  
Starscream froze for the space of a sparkbeat before his warmth returned to Rodimus' back, and remained there as Rodimus slowly but carefully lowered himself flat on the berth. He lay on his ventrum, Starscream draped on top of him, spike still snug in his valve.  
  
“You're a weird one,” Starscream said as their legs tangled together and Starscream folded his arms against Rodimus' spoiler.  
  
“Hah. Speak for yourself,” Rodimus retorted, but his vocals were muffled by the bedding.  
  
He counted his ventilations and the beats between them. The rapid beating of his spark slowed to a normal pace, too. He was hot, burning up, and Starscream was equally so. But Rodimus didn't want him to go. This was comfortable, comforting.  
  
Even if it wasn't real.  
  
Rodimus shoved those thoughts down deep. He shifted beneath Starscream, stretching out his arms before tucking one underneath his head. He could recharge like this if he wanted.  
  
He shouldn't feel so safe with Starscream at his back. But he supposed if Starscream wanted to shove an energon blade into it, he would have done so by now.  
  
Starscream's spike twitched in his valve, still half-pressurized. He probably liked this, too, despite his waspish behavior. Hah. Rodimus wasn't surprised.  
  
“What's this?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
Starscream's fingers stroked down the length of his arm before they cupped Rodimus' outstretched hand. His thumb rubbed over Rodimus' palm and only then did Rodimus know what he'd seen because Starscream's thumb traced the sharp lines and curves of the numbers etched into his palm.  
  
“Nothing,” Rodimus said as he tried to curl his fingers into a fist and tuck his hand away from Starscream.  
  
The Seeker's grip was relentless, however. “101 over 89,” Starscream read aloud, his tone neutral. “Mechs don't carve numbers into their hands without good reason, Rodimus-not-a-Prime. Is this what sent you sulking into that bar?”  
  
“I wasn't sulking!”  
  
Starscream snorted. “Mmm. Tell me another one.” His grip tightened around Rodimus' hand as pressed his lips to Rodimus' audial, his vocals sultry rather than annoying. “What are you running from, _Captain_?”  
  
Rodimus shifted from hot to cold so fast it left his processor spinning. Starscream's grip was relentless. It kept him from pulling his shame out of sight.  
  
He thought he was coming to grips with it. He'd thought he'd find some solace or comfort in Optimus' advice. He'd gained neither. If anything, he'd found that his unshakeable faith in a mech he once aspired to become had become just as rattled as his faith in himself.  
  
“I wonder,” Starscream said as his thumb ran over the carved numbers in a gentle touch that sent a shiver down Rodimus' spinal strut. “Does it have anything to do with a certain Phase Sixer?”  
  
Rodimus jolted. “How do you know about that?”  
  
Starscream chuckled. “I have my sources.” He shifted his hips, and his spike slid out of Rodimus' valve, leaving him horribly empty. “And it seems I've hit the mark. So. You made a mistake, out of arrogance I imagine, and then you made another mistake, out of fear. And then you just kept making those mistakes, didn't you?”  
  
Rodimus squirmed out from under Starscream, ripping his hand free. “It's none of your business,” he snapped, his valve snapping shut. He cradled both hands close to his chestplate. “And you're one to talk about arrogance.”  
  
“Ah, but we're not talking about me. We're talking about you.” Starscream's vocals continued to sound amused. “Whyever would you let Prowl manipulate you like that?”  
  
Rodimus cast a glare over his shoulder, his rage ticking upward at the sight of Starscream's smirk. “The same reason you let Prowl manipulate you,” he snapped because yeah, he had his sources, too.  
  
Crimson optics flashed, but Starscream must have learned some self-control because he didn't rise to the bait. “Extenuating circumstances,” he said, and propped his head up with a hand, bending his arm beneath it. “Let's talk about you and Overlord and… Drift, was it? The one you let take the fall?”  
  
Rodimus ground his denta so hard that he heard the metal shriek. “I'm not talking about this with you.”  
  
“Why not?” A light touch landed on his backstrut, between his spoiler halves, and dragged halfway down. “Oh, believe me, baby Prime. If there's anyone who understands the fault that lies in arrogance, it's me. Do you think I would mock you?”  
  
“You're Starscream,” Rodimus muttered.  
  
The Seeker laughed. “I feel like I'm supposed to be insulted by that.” The tip of one talon scratched at Rodimus' backplate seams, and it was oddly soothing. “I am what I am. And you are what you are, eating yourself up with your own guilt, all the while pretending it doesn't bother you. But it's not just Overlord, is it?” Starscream chuckled again. “You Autobots and your guilt complexes. This feeds into a deeper guilt, doesn't it?”  
  
Primus damn it. How did Starscream read him so well?  
  
Rodimus scooted forward, just out of reach of Starscream, his legs dangling over the edge of the berth. “And I suppose Decepticons don't feel guilty?”  
  
“Not about the things that were necessary, no.” Starscream's field reached for him, now that his hands couldn't, and it poked and prodded at all the weak sections of Rodimus' own. “I don't have time for guilt. I don't have time to let it consume me. Else I'd never accomplish anything.”  
  
Rodimus snorted. “That's because you're a selfish slagger.”  
  
“Mm. And I own it.” He couldn't see it, but he knew Starscream was smirking. Every drawl of the Seeker's tone dripped with self-satisfaction.  
  
Starscream scootched closer, near enough that he could poke Rodimus right between the two halves of his spoiler. “Maybe you should think about doing that, too.”  
  
Rodimus whirled and smacked his hand away. “No. That's not who I am.”  
  
Starscream arched an orbital ridge. “That so? Then why don't you tell me who you are, Rodimus-not-a-Prime.” He lowered his chin and his gaze, staring pointedly at Rodimus' hand.  
  
He sighed and let his shoulders sag. He scraped his hand down his face. He never thought he'd see the day when he had something in common with Starscream, but right now, here he was and there Starscream was, and sadly, Starscream was right. He was probably the only one who would understand. Not because of guilt, as Rodimus doubted Starscream even knew what that felt like. But Starscream had a history of making bad choices. And yet, somehow, he kept managing to pick himself back up, smirk in place.  
  
Rodimus dragged his feet back onto the berth and leaned up against the wall, ignoring the flakes of rust that rained down on him. He drew one knee up, resting his arm atop it. He tilted his head back, closed his optics. If he didn't have to look at Starscream, maybe that would be easier.  
  
“Yes, it has to do with Overlord,” he admitted, and oh, didn't that hurt. “Yes, I let Prowl twist me around into thinking it was a good idea. I let Drift convince me to let him take the blame. I've lost at least ten percent of my crew since I started this quest, and that's probably a conservative estimate.”  
  
That hurt more.  
  
He did know the names. He knew each and every designation. He pretended he didn't, but they were scored inside his memory core. He took them out sometimes, especially at night, when he was lying in bed thinking about all the awesome things he would accomplish, only to realize he was getting in his own way.  
  
He knew who had died. He didn't know, of those mechs still on life support in the medbay, who he would be adding to the list. He didn't know who he would get killed in the future.  
  
He didn't know if he knew how to make the right decisions anymore.  
  
Rodimus onlined his optics and looked at his palm. He traced the curves and lines of each number with the thumb of his other hand.  
  
“I held a vote. To see if the crew still wanted me as their captain. At the time, I thought it was the humble thing to do. But Optimus was right. As he always is.” His ventilations stuttered, and it took a moment to get them back in tune. “I never once thought I'd lose, but here the numbers are.” He lifted his hand, showing Starscream, the edge of his mouth curving into a wan smile, a pale shade of his usual grin. “Damn near lost, didn't I?”  
  
“You still won.”  
  
“Almost didn't though. It was a near-thing. Almost half the crew wanted me to resign. _Half_. And I know that many aren't gonna stay behind when we leave again.”  
  
Starscream made a non-committal noise. “Optimus isn't always right. He just thinks he is,” he said, and pushed himself upright, rolling his shoulders. “That holier-than-thou attitude that he has, it's one of the reasons the war lasted as long as it did. The both of them, refusing to bend, maybe he should take a good, hard look at himself for once. As if him becoming Orion Pax was any less selfish than you asking for a vote.”  
  
Rodimus blinked. “He did it to calm tensions.”  
  
“That's what he _told_ you,” Starscream said and he smirked, effecting a long, casual stretch. “And it half-worked like he hoped it would. But really, all he was doing was running away from his own legacy. From blind hero-worshippers like you. At least Megatron had the bolts to own his actions.”  
  
Rodimus stared at the Seeker. “I never thought I'd see the day where you complimented Megatron.”  
  
Starscream shrugged and leaned back on his hands. “It's complicated. And you're avoiding the topic.” He tilted his head, lips curving. “You're not sulking out of guilt. You're sulking out of hurt, too. Because you asked the great Optimus Prime for advice, he cut the rug out from under you, and then insult upon insult, instilled my former leader as captain of _your_ quest. Aren't you glad he came back when he did?”  
  
Rodimus ground his denta. “You're twisting my words.”  
  
“I don't have to, baby Prime.” Starscream laughed, bearing his denta in a sharp grin. “It's written all over your face. And I thought I was twisted. That's some dark resentment you're brewing there.” He extended a leg, tapping Rodimus in the thigh with the tip of a thruster. “Believe me. I know resentment.”  
  
“I don't _resent_ Optimus!” Rodimus growled, wriggling away from Starscream.  
  
“You don't?” Starscream watched his retreat with a grin and thinly veiled amusement. “You're not doing a good job of convincing me otherwise.”  
  
Rodimus huffed a ventilation. He flopped on his side, away from Starscream, only remembering at the last second to flick his spoiler out of the way. The last thing he needed to do was hurt himself in a fit of pique.  
  
“Why are we talking?” he demanded. “Didn't we come here to frag?”  
  
Starscream dragged a finger down his backstrut, making him shiver. “You are really good at convincing yourself about the things you think you don't need, aren't you?” he asked.  
  
The berth shifted as he leaned closer, ex-venting warm and damp on the back of Rodimus' neck. Starscream's hand worked lower, until it cupped Rodimus' aft.  
  
“So what about the things you think you do need.” Starscream purred. His talons scraped a long line against Rodimus' aft, drawing up curls of paint. “Does this count, Rodimus-not-a-Prime?”  
  
Rodimus shivered. The scrape felt like an itch he couldn't scratch. It sent his lines to twitching. But the weight of Starscream's hand, the lingering warmth so near to his back, it made him _crave_ all over again the sweet oblivion of release.  
  
He pushed his aft back toward Starscream, his valve twitching as arousal returned with a vengeance. He was already wet and open and horribly empty.  
  
“Maybe it is,” Rodimus said and tilted forward, just enough that his valve was presented to Starscream. His spike repressurized, the head of it rubbing against the berth cover. “You gonna ignore this offer, Screamer? Am I gonna have to go elsewhere to get what I need?”  
  
Starscream's hand wandered from Rodimus' aft to his valve. The tips of his talons traced the rim of it before two pushed inside. Rodimus moaned, working his intake.  
  
“Very well,” Starscream murmured. His fingers twisted and curled, sweeping over every internal node within reach.  
  
Rodimus' valve tingled. His calipers fluttered restlessly. He rocked back, urging Starscream to go deeper, or at least frag him.  
  
“The coward's way out it is,” Starscream continued before his fingers retreated from Rodimus' valve, leaving him with that horribly abandoned feeling again.  
  
Rodimus hissed. He shoved his hand against the berth, trying to roll over, but Starscream was there, blanketing him from behind, throwing a leg over his hips. Starscream's spike nudged at his valve, even as Starscream tossed his arm over Rodimus' torso, his lubricant damp fingers pressing to Rodimus' lips.  
  
“Suck,” Starscream commanded as his spikehead teased the rim of Rodimus' valve, playing in the lubricants making a steady escape from within.  
  
Rodimus opened his mouth without thinking and Starscream pushed his fingers inside. Rodimus sucked on them greedily, his glossa lashing over the sharp talons, cleaning them of every drop of his own lubricant. Starscream wouldn't kiss him, so this was the next best thing.  
  
Rodimus moaned as Starscream's fingers stroked his glossa. He gripped the berth with his free hand, rocking back against Starscream, demanding that Starscream take him, slide into his valve, and frag him senseless.  
  
He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to talk about Optimus or the vote or Overlord or anything that mattered.  
  
He just wanted to be Hot Rod again. The reckless rookie who didn't care about anything but the next great high.  
  
Starscream obliged. He growled as he shoved against Rodimus' back, as his spike bobbed against Rodimus' rim before sliding inside. His fingers pushed deeper, stroking the back of Rodimus' glossa, and all Rodimus did was suck them. He pretended they were a spike, and he lavished them with love.  
  
He heard Starscream's ventilations hitch. He felt the rumble of Starscream's engine against his back, his spoiler.  
  
“You are a menace,” Starscream said as he rocked into Rodimus, his spike stroking every node with perfect precision.  
  
Rodimus rolled back onto his spike, trying to get Starscream deeper. But this angle only allowed for shallow penetration. For something slow and sweet. It felt good, but it wasn't what Rodimus needed.  
  
He sucked harder on Starscream's fingers before talking around them. “Come on, frag me already,” he demanded, knowing that the words were muffled, but his desire should be obvious.  
  
“Isn't that what I'm doing?” Starscream asked as he pushed into Rodimus even slower, spike stirring every sensor node and making Rodimus itch with pleasure.  
  
He moaned, denta clamping down on Starscream's fingers, not enough to harm, but enough to leave marks behind.  
  
“We can't always get what we want,” Starscream purred into Rodimus' audial, his glossa tickling against it. He rolled himself deep and held himself there, circling his hips, his spikehead rubbing against Rodimus' ceiling node.  
  
A low keen rose in Rodimus' intake. His head tilted back toward Starscream's. He clawed at the berth as oral lubricant dribbled out the corners of his mouth.  
  
Fine. If this was how Starscream wanted to play it, then Rodimus would go along with it for now.  
  
His chance would come. All he'd need do was seize it.  
  


****


	2. Lies for the Liars

Starscream felt the moment Rodimus stopped fighting him. The tension vanished from the baby Prime's frame, and he melted into Starscream's arms. His valve opened up, accepting Starscream's spike with greedy cycling of his calipers. He moaned around Starscream's fingers, sucking on them as surely as if they were a spike.   
  
Starscream's lips curved. He nibbled at Rodimus' audials and rocked into Rodimus' valve, his spike throbbing with pleasure. Rodimus' valve was utterly delightful, eager and welcoming. It seemed to want nothing more than to drag Starscream's spike deeper and keep him there. Even better that Rodimus kept pushing his aft backward, into the cradle of Starscream's pelvis. He writhed against Starscream, his field screaming his lust, his need.   
  
What a treasure Starscream had found in the slums. Or had Rodimus found him? Either way, for the first time in months, Starscream considered himself lucky.   
  
There were many different kinds of power. And the ability to reduce someone like Rodimus to a whimpering, moaning mess of need was one of them. Starscream was proud of himself, proud of the pleasure he stirred in the flame-colored mech.   
  
This was not what he expected when he let Rodimus follow him back into this slum apartment, infested with all manner of being. He expected he would boot the primeling out on his aft once he’d had a tedious, and vaguely satisfying overload.   
  
He’d not expected Rodimus to reveal a deep-seated resentment and frustration, one that Starscream could empathize with all too well.   
  
Starscream now had a vulnerable little Autobot Primeling in his arms, and he wasn’t quite sure what all he intended to do with that. Except, perhaps, make Rodimus moan and writhe, as he made quite the pretty picture when he did.   
  
What an opportunity had fallen into Starscream’s lap.   
  
Well, almost his lap.   
  
Now there was a thought.   
  
Starscream purred against the back of Rodimus’ head, his fingers eclipsed by Rodimus’ warm and willing mouth. The Autobrat sucked like he was made for having a spike in his mouth, and Starscream groaned. He hoped to sink past Rodimus’ lips again tonight. But first…  
  
He drew back on his heelstruts, reluctantly drawing his fingers free of Rodimus’ mouth. The primeling gave a whimper of protest, his lips chasing after Starscream’s retreating fingers. Yes, definitely something of an oral fetish in this one.   
  
“Wha…?”  
  
Starscream’s damp hand smoothed down Rodimus’ back, briefly flicking over the join of spoiler to his backstrut, before he hooked his fingers over the top of Rodimus’ left spoiler. “Come here.”   
  
Rodimus’ aft pushed back, forcing Starscream’s spike deep. He shivered, rolling his hips, grinding Starscream’s spike against his ceiling node.   
  
“I am here,” he said.   
  
“In my lap, you dolt,” Starscream said as he curved his free arm around Rodimus’ waist, tugging him backward. “You’re going to do some of the work.”   
  
Rodimus grunted, his arms drawing inward, his elbows digging into the cheap berth. He pushed his weight up, and it was enough for Starscream to tug him entirely back, his spike sliding even deeper as Rodimus’ aft rested on his groin, his thighs splayed wide over Starscream’s.   
  
He wobbled, balance unsure, before he abruptly reached up and back, curving his arm around the back of Starscream’s neck. He ex-vented heat, hips rolling, a low groan rattling audibly through his chassis.   
  
“This better, your highness?” he asked as his knees dug into the berth, giving him just enough leverage to roll his hips, riding the length of Starscream’s spike. His valve quivered and clutched, spitting charge at Starscream’s spike as though angry for the delay.   
  
Starscream slid a hand around Rodimus’ slim waist, his fingers seeking out the mech’s overly decorated spike. It was as gaudy as the rest of him, but it throbbed hotly when Starscream gripped it, and pre-fluid dribbled from the tip.   
  
“Much,” Starscream murmured. He nibbled his way to Rodimus’ neck, denta seeking out the charged cables.   
  
The tiniest pressure made Rodimus shiver, made his spoiler twitch where it was pinned against Starscream’s chestplate.   
  
“You aren’t unattractive, baby Prime,” Starscream added as he bit harder on Rodimus’ cables, hard enough to leave the indentation of his denta behind. A mark, something for the Autobot to carry back to his ship and crew.   
  
A gasp rattled out of Rodimus’ intake. “I don’t want compliments. I just want my overload.” His valve rippled around Starscream’s spike, spiraling down tightly, as though trying to keep him pierced.   
  
“Such impatience. You’ll never be like Optimus at this rate,” Starscream said with a dark chuckle.   
  
He squeezed Rodimus’ spike, giving it a long, slow pull. Rodimus arched in his arms, rocking into Starscream’s grip, even as his valve suckled at Starscream’s spike, calipers rippling madly.   
  
“Shut up,” Rodimus snapped. His free hand slapped down over Starscream’s, forcing him into a tighter grip on the primeling’s spike. “No one asked you.”   
  
Primus, but he was a fun one to play with.   
  
Starscream chuckled. He ex-vented a burst of damp heat against Rodimus’ nibbled cables, provoking another shiver. “As you say.”   
  
His hand slid from his grip on Rodimus’ left hip, talons dragging a light pressure over red and gold armor until he found an inset vent. The slats were just thin enough for him to slide a talon between them, teasing the delicate structures beneath.   
  
Rodimus sucked in a sharp ventilation. His backstrut arched, a shudder wracking his entire frame. His spike throbbed harder, more pre-fluid leaking free.   
  
“Oo, did I find a sensitive spot?” Starscream asked, his lips dragging their way back to Rodimus’ audial. He ex-vented hotly, and Rodimus’ field burst with arousal, flashing fire all around Starscream.   
  
He must have.   
  
“You’re an aft,” Rodimus growled, yet he pushed against Starscream, his hips eagerly rocking back and forth between Starscream’s spike and fingers.   
  
Such a contrary primeling.   
  
“Oh, really?” Starscream hummed his amusement, latching onto that as a means to stave off arousal as Rodimus started to wriggle and writhe atop him, heat billowing from his vents. “Perhaps I just let you go then? Leave you empty and aching?”   
  
Rodimus’ hand clamped on the back of Starscream’s neck. “Don’t you dare!”   
  
“Then you should consider being nicer to me.” Starscream’s denta dragged back down to Rodimus’ cables, charge dancing out to meet his glossa. “Or do you not want this overload?”   
  
Rodimus made a sound not unlike a whimper. He shivered, pressing back against Starscream, valve leaking copiously around Starscream’s spike. His thighs were splattered in it; he could feel it slithering into his seams. The scent of arousal was so thick in the room that it drowned out all the other odors: rust and grime alike.   
  
Mm. This was much, much better.   
  
“Stop torturing me!” Rodimus demanded, his vents puffing heat into the room, enough that Starscream’s own internal temperature ticked upward.   
  
“You have no idea what torture truly is, Rodimus,” Starscream growled and he sank his denta into the primeling’s neck cables.   
  
Rodimus’ nearly-shrieked, his back curving as he slammed his aft down, forcing Starscream’s spike so deep it rolled over and against his ceiling node. Charge flickered out from Rodimus’ substructure, lighting up the room. He wriggled in Starscream’s lap, his hand clamping tight on Starscream’s, forcing him to stroke Rodimus faster, and more aggressively.   
  
Liked pain with his interfacing, did he? Starscream had an inkling as to why, given the grief and shame he’d picked up in his field earlier. But whatever. Starscream was not a psychologist. He was not here to fix Rodimus.   
  
Though, if asked, Starscream wasn’t sure he could answer why he was here.   
  
Starscream dug his talons deeper into Rodimus’ chest vents, raking the internal circuitry, as the heat of Rodimus’ arousal flooded his frame. He panted, dragged in air through his vents, hips working and working. He was close. Starscream could taste his charge, his need.   
  
“Give me your overload,” Starscream demanded into Rodimus’ audial as he finally started to thrust, pumping his hips up to the same tune as Rodimus slamming down. Rodimus’ calipers rippled up and down his spike, and it took all Starscream had not to give in to the ecstasy they offered.   
  
“H-hah.” Rodimus’ belligerence stuttered and was all the less believable for it. “You t-think I’m gonna l-listen to y-you?”   
  
Starscream chuckled darkly. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He squeezed Rodimus’ spike, pinching the tip between his thumb and forefinger.   
  
Rodimus jerked in his arms. He wheezed a ventilation. His valve clamped down, rippling arrhythmically now. It was hungry, grasping at Starscream’s spike as if he was the only relief to be found.   
  
Starscream slid his talons out of Rodimus’ vents and planted his hand flat on Rodimus’ chestplate. He pushed Rodimus backward, pinning Rodimus against his chestplate, and thrust up, charge igniting between their nodes. His lips made short work of Rodimus’ neck cables, licking soothingly over the bites, before he found a section yet to be touched. Begging to be marked.   
  
So he did.   
  
He gripped the base of Rodimus’ spike and gave him a long, hard pull up, even as he sank his denta into Rodimus’ neck cables, until he tasted energon on his lips.  
  
Rodimus seized. His head tossed back, his hips jerking, as he overloaded. His spike spurted, thin streams of transfluid striping the air, as his valve clamped down tight, milking Starscream’s spike for an overload he wasn’t going to give the baby Prime. Not just yet.   
  
Rodimus whined his pleasure, hands clamping on Starscream’s neck and hand as though they were a lifeline. His field flashed out, tangling into the strings of Starscream’s own and giving them a sharp, desperate tug.   
  
Starscream resisted, though it pained him greatly. His spike throbbed desperately, loving the dripping embrace of Rodimus’ valve.   
  
‘Not yet,’ he told himself. ‘Not yet.’  
  
He continued to work Rodimus’ spike, his fingers firm but gentle as they stroked the softening length and teased over the sensitive head. Rodimus squirmed on his lap, making delicious sounds.   
  
“Nnn,” he moaned. His fingers slid to Starscream’s wrist as though trying to tug his hand away from his spike. “Sensitive,” he whimpered.   
  
“I know,” Starscream purred with a nip to Rodimus’ audial. He worked his hips, spike stirring against Rodimus’ throbbing nodes.   
  
Rodimus hissed a ventilation, his backstrut arching. “Then let me go.” He squirmed again, valve cycling around Starscream’s spike and soaking his lap in lubricant. Charge spat intermittently from his nodes, taunting Starscream.   
  
Starscream hummed in his chassis, pretending as though he hadn’t heard. He nibbled on Rodimus’ audial, stroking Rodimus’ spike again, until Rodimus’ fingers pressed in on the back of his neck, and he hissed through his denta.   
  
“Starscream!”   
  
He chuckled darkly, rolling his hips to grind against Rodimus’ ceiling node. “I told you,” he murmured, mouth traveling down to lick over the marks he left on Rodimus’ intake cables. “You have no idea what torture is.”   
  
Rodimus’ ventilations stuttered. He squirmed, knees digging into the berth. He dropped his hand from the back of Starscream’s neck and tipped his frame forward, trying to wriggle free of Starscream’s lap.   
  
Very well.   
  
Starscream abruptly let him go, and Rodimus tumbled forward, barely catching his upper half with his hands before he faceplanted onto the berth.   
  
“You’re such an aft,” he grumbled.  
  
Starscream grinned as he stroked a hand down Rodimus’ nicely arched back, ending with a pat on the primeling’s aft. “So I’ve been told.”   
  
Rodimus rocked forward, sliding the last few inches off Starscream’s lap – and his spike. He hovered there on hands and knees, a shiver racing across his plating, his swollen valve dripping with lubricant. His biolights pulsed fitfully, his anterior node a plump little angry nub.   
  
Starscream couldn’t resist touching it.   
  
His palm slid down Rodimus’ aft, his fingers drawn toward the inviting valve. He stroked the swollen rim, lubricant slicking his fingers, before he brushed over that blinking nub.   
  
Rodimus hissed a ventilation and arched his backstrut. His spoiler twitched, even as his valve visibly contracted.   
  
“You’re insatiable,” he groaned as he rocked forward, out of Starscream’s immediate reach.  
  
Starscream’s hand wrapped around his spike, both coated in Rodimus’ lubricant. “Well, I haven’t overloaded yet,” he said as he pumped himself, though lightly. He still had plans for his spike and Rodimus’ mouth both.   
  
“Gah.” Rodimus huffed and flopped over onto his back as though it took great effort, his limbs trembling. He lay there, thighs splayed, array on display.   
  
Starscream’s mouth filled with lubricant. There was something inviting about Rodimus, something that demanded he touch.   
  
Damn irresistible Autobots.   
  
“Why not?” Rodimus demanded, and his tone was almost petulant. Shaking fingers slid down his frame, down his chestplate, his abdomen, and made unerringly for his array.   
  
He scrubbed his palm over the tip of his half-pressurized spike before he bracketed his anterior node with two fingers.   
  
“My valve not good enough for you?” Rodimus slid his hand further down and slipped two fingers into his valve, shivering as he stroked them in and out, the yellow glistening with pale lubricant.   
  
Starscream licked his lips. He watched Rodimus’ fingers as he stroked his own spike, squeezing it to stave off the overload hovering around the corner. The taste of Rodimus’ charge had been delicious.   
  
“Good enough,” Starscream replied, his gaze tracking up the length of Rodimus’ frame to the tempting curve of Rodimus’ lips. “But now I want your mouth.”   
  
“Hah.” Rodimus’ fingers abandoned his valve. He dug his elbows into the berth, forcing his torso upright as he tilted his helm. “What makes you think I’m going to let you have it?”   
  
His actions belied his belligerence. His glossa swept over his lips as his optics flashed with heat.   
  
Starscream’s internals tightened with need. He forced himself to release his spike as he moved forward on hands and knees, until he straddled Rodimus’ hips. Only then did he grip his spike again, giving it a long, firm stroke, squeezing free a pearl of pre-fluid.   
  
Rodimus tracked it with his optics, licking his lips again. He worked his intake.   
  
“Because you want it, too,” Starscream challenged, his ventilations quickening. “Don’t you?”   
  
Rodimus pressed his lips together. His hands curled into fists where they pressed against the berth cover. He stared back at Starscream, defiant.   
  
But a spike started to nudge at Starscream’s inner thighs. Rodimus had never fully depressurized, and now he was firm again. If the need yawing in his field was any indication, Starscream was right.   
  
What an addictive feeling.   
  
Someone had an oral fetish, and Starscream was more than happy to satisfy it. And capitalize on it.   
  
“It’s okay,” Starscream murmured silkily. He held Rodimus’ gaze as he stroked his spike and gathered pre-fluid on his fingertips. His spike throbbed, eager to sink into something warm and wet. “You can have it. Because afterward, I’m going to ride this pretty little spike of yours again. Until neither of us can see straight.”   
  
Starscream rolled his hips, catching the head of Rodimus’ spike against his array, feeling the heat of it against his valve rim.   
  
Rodimus visibly shivered. He flopped back to the berth, hands finding their way to Starscream’s thighs. His fingers slipped into seams, holding tight.   
  
“If you tell anyone--”  
  
Starscream interrupted him with a smirk. “Like they’d believe me.” He huffed a laugh and scooted forward ever so slowly, letting his valve leave driblets of lubricant behind on Rodimus’ chestplate.   
  
Starscream felt like he was staking a claim, and maybe he was. He was kind of thinking about keeping Rodimus now. A pretty little prime to call his own.   
  
“They would,” Rodimus muttered, and he sounded bitter about it.   
  
Starscream saved that response and tucked it away for later exploration. There was quite a lot of rancor within the little Prime. He wondered if he could make use of it.   
  
Something to contemplate at a later date however. For now, his spike throbbed, eager to sink into that hot, willing mouth, and Rodimus licked his lips again, quite eager to swallow Starscream down.   
  
“I don’t intend on telling anyway,” Starscream said as he slid several more feet forward, until the head of his spike could brush Rodimus’ lips, painting them in his pre-fluid. “I don’t feel like sharing.”   
  
“Sharing?” Rodimus’ lips moved against his spikehead, glossa flicking over the tip and slurping up the pearl of lubricant. “Are you staking a claim, Seeker?” He lifted his chin, as though purposefully highlighting the nibble marks on his neck.   
  
Starscream curled a hand Rodimus’ head, lifting him that much closer. He directed his spike against Rodimus’ mouth, the heated derma twitching as Rodimus’ ex-vents caressed it.   
  
“I just might,” Starscream said. “Open.”   
  
Rodimus’ hands slid around Starscream’s waist, pressing in against the base of his backstrut. His optics darkened to a cerulean, filling with heat. But he obeyed, lips parting, glossa emerging to lick the length of Starscream’s spike. He made a low sound, one of need and hunger, before he pulled, forcing the first third of Starscream’s spike into his mouth.   
  
They moaned, somehow in unison, Starscream hissing air through his denta. He curved forward, hands hitting the berth, his spike slipping deeper into Rodimus’ mouth. The heat gathering internally roared into a bright blaze, one that narrowed down to the point of pleasure where Rodimus’ glossa stroked over the head of his spike.   
  
Rodimus sucked on him, making little delighted noises. His lips sealed around Starscream’s spike before he tugged on Starscream’s waist, as if urging him deeper.   
  
Well then.   
  
Starscream panted as he shifted his thighs further outward and tilted his hips forward, letting the last few inches sink into Rodimus’ very hot and welcoming mouth. The tip of his spike nudged the back of the primeling’s intake, but all Rodimus did was moan and make a delighted noise. His engine roared, his hands flexing on Starscream’s waist.   
  
Starscream knew it.   
  
He panted as he rocked his lips in small, aborted thrusts. He worked Rodimus’ mouth like one might a valve, and it was as welcoming as one. Lips and glossa were soft and hungry. Denta dragged along a line of tiny sensory nubs, and Starscream’s backstrut shivered.   
  
His spike throbbed harder and faster, dribbling a steady stream of pre-fluid down the back of Rodimus’ intake. Starscream moaned, and very so slowly, released the tight grip he held on his arousal. He let it roar through his frame, rattle over him.   
  
Starscream hung his helm, his optics shuttering. He panted through his intake, fingers clawing at the berthcover, as a coil in the pit of his tanks tightened and tightened. Rodimus moaned around his spike, the vibrations seeming to travel up Starscream’s transfluid channel and into the very center of his array.   
  
Rodimus tugged again, and the base of Starscream’s spike nudged against his nasal ridge. Fully sheathed in Rodimus’ intake, feeling the delicate tubing flex around the head of his spike, and Starscream shattered.   
  
His hips pumped in tiny increments, his spike throbbing as he spurted transfluid down Rodimus’ intake, and Rodimus swallowed every last drop. Rodimus moaned, his field shivering with heat, exploding with need.   
  
Overload throbbed through Starscream’s entire frame. His valve spasmed, cycling down on nothing in delayed need. He worked his hips in the tiniest of circles, lingering in the welcome warmth of Rodimus’ intake, as Rodimus’ glossa fluttered gently around his spike. He almost didn’t want to withdraw, but needs must.   
  
Starscream panted as he shifted back, reluctantly withdrawing his spike from Rodimus’ mouth. Rodimus moaned around it, lips and glossa working Starscream’s sensitive unit until he was finally free.   
  
He shuffled backward on shaking knees, finding his way back to Rodimus’ hips. Starscream planted his hands on Rodimus’ chest as his valve hovered over Rodimus’ firmly pressurized spike.   
  
“That what you wanted?” Rodimus asked as he swept his glossa over his swollen lips, nearly tempting Starscream to kiss him. His hands remained on Starscream’s hips, grip tight and unyielding.   
  
Starscream huffed a laugh. His thighs wobbled beneath him, but he shifted his weight to his knees, enabling him to rock his hips, rubbing his valve up and down the length of Rodimus’ spike. He painted it with his lubricant, feeling Rodimus shiver beneath him.   
  
“You tell me,” Starscream panted as he caught the head of Rodimus’ spike with the rim of his valve. “Did I quench your thirst?”   
  
Rodimus laughed, an honest laugh that seemed to resonate from within his chassis. “That was terrible, Starscream.”   
  
His lips pulled into a crooked grin. He looked down at the primeling, who finally appeared relaxed, all of the tension gone from his frame. Well, non-arousal related tension at any rate.   
  
“Mm, let me make it up to you then,” Starscream said as he rolled his hips again, this time letting Rodimus slip into his valve. He shivered as the head of the primeling’s spike teased the cluster of nodes just within his rim.   
  
The lingering tremors of his previous overload roared back to life, pinging heat and need through his array. His calipers rippled, the first line of them clutching at the head of Rodimus’ spike, trying to pull him deeper.   
  
Rodimus groaned. His backstrut arched, his grip on Starscream’s hips tightening. He braced his feet on the berth and tried to thrust up, but Starscream rose on his knees.   
  
Nope. This was going at his pace. Simply because he loved it when Rodimus got that frustrated look on his face. When his field rippled with need.   
  
“Let me thrust!” He pouted.   
  
“All in due time, baby Prime.” Starscream purred a laugh. He flexed his fingers on Rodimus’ chest, talons leaving little scratches in the bright yellow plating. He could feel the strong thrum of Rodimus’ spark beneath his palms, the frantic beat of it.   
  
Mmm. Now there was an idea.   
  
Starscream circled his hips and sank down further, his valve eagerly swallowing Rodimus’ spike inch by precious inch.   
  
Rodimus’ ventilations hitched. His hands flexed on Starscream’s hips. “You are a tease,” he accused.   
  
Starscream laughed. “You have no idea,” he murmured. He shifted his weight, moving his hands from bracing on Rodimus’ chestplate, to bracing on the berth to either side of Rodimus’ shoulders.   
  
He leaned forward, his lips skimming Rodimus’ chestplate to the nigh invisible seam. “Why don’t you open here, too?”   
  
Rodimus made a strangled noise. “What?”   
  
Starscream’s glossa traced the seam. “Live dangerously, Rodimus,” he murmured, ex-venting hotly. He let his hips sink down ever so slowly, until Rodimus was root-deep in his valve, throbbing hotly.   
  
“I’m not baring my spark to you!” Rodimus huffed, even as his hips rose up, working deep into Starscream’s valve.   
  
Starscream ground down, until the head of Rodimus’ spike graced his ceiling node. He tightened, rippling his calipers up and down the length of the primeling’s spike. “Not even a little?”   
  
A gasp worked its way out of Rodimus’ intake. His optics flashed. “I’ve never bared my spark to anyone. I’m not about to start now.”   
  
_Not with you_ , was the implication here.   
  
Hmm. Fair enough.   
  
“Pity.” Starscream dragged his lips up the length of Rodimus’ chestplate and nosed his way into Rodimus’ intake, inhaling greedily. “Maybe next time then.” He licked over one of the marks of his denta from earlier.   
  
Rodimus made a strangled noise. His hands tightened on Starscream’s hips, pulling him down even as he thrust up. Their armor clanged together, Rodimus’ spike throbbing harder and harder in Starscream’s valve.   
  
Starscream sank down against him, riding the motions of Rodimus’ frame, his valve eagerly clutching at Rodimus’ spike. Charge exchanged rapidly between sensor and receptor nodes, until Starscream’s entire array tingled. He licked and nipped at Rodimus’ intake, feeling every vibration of Rodimus’ vocalizer against his lips.   
  
Rodimus’ field rose up and stroked over his, tangling the edges of their fields together until they pulsed in harmony. Rodimus’ engine growled, vibrating both of their frames, and Rodimus’ grip abruptly shifted, to wrapping around Starscream.   
  
He had only a sparkbeat to contemplate why before Rodimus rolled them, half onto their sides, half onto Starscream’s back. He had to flick his wing to the side at the last second to avoid denting it. Rodimus never ceased thrusting into him, though now the angle had changed, and each thrust pounded against Starscream’s ceiling node and a sensor cluster at the back of his valve.   
  
Starscream moaned, his thighs tightening around Rodimus’ waist as the primeling pressed his forehead to Starscream’s. His optics were bright and wide, desperate. One hand slid down, curving around Starscream’s thigh, pushing his leg back and up, opening him wide.   
  
He thrust harder, hips churning as though desperately seeking pleasure. A low whine rose in his intake, one of intense need.   
  
As if only Starscream had what he wanted.   
  
It felt like power, all in the palm of his hand.   
  
Or, errr, the clutch of his valve.   
  
Either way, Starscream rejoiced in it. He purred his pleasure, curled a hand around the back of Rodimus’ head, and tugged the primeling down into a kiss that was as much denta as it was lips. He bit at Rodimus’ mouth, eagerly devouring Rodimus as his valve hungrily swallowed every desperate thrust.   
  
Pleasure built inside of him, each wave of it crashing one against the other until it was an endless pulse of ecstasy. Rodimus made all of these cute, needy noises. Soft gasps. Desperate whirrs of his vents. Rattles of his cooling fans. He moaned into the kiss, hands tightening where they gripped Starscream, his field a tangled mass of greedy hunger.   
  
Starscream sucked on his bottom lip before plunging his glossa into Rodimus’ mouth, deepening the kiss. The heat of him consumed Starscream, and every plunge of Rodimus’ spike lit up Starscream’s internal nodes like fireworks.   
  
Overload was inevitable.   
  
In the heat of the moment, Starscream wasn’t even sure which of them tumbled over the edge first. Whether it was Rodimus spurting heat against his ceiling node, or Starscream’s valve clamping down like a vise, sensors and receptors exchanging charge so quickly that it felt like a jolt of electricity in their arrays.   
  
All Starscream knew was the pleasure, eclipsing all else. The roar of his fans, the whine in Rodimus’ intake, the frantic, stuttered impact of Rodimus’ hips against his until Rodimus sagged on top of him, panting and squirming.   
  
He pressed their foreheads together, his hips resting in the cradle of Starscream’s thighs. His field wrapped warmly around them both in a kind of relieved embrace. He hummed, deep in his chassis, as he ex-vented puffs of heat against Starscream.   
  
Tremors of pleasure wracked Starscream’s frame. His valve twitched, rippling around Rodimus’ slowly depressurizing spike.   
  
He’d lost count of the number of overloads. He felt languorous. Sated. Satisfied.   
  
“Mmm.” Rodimus rolled his forehead against Starscream’s before brushing his lips over Starscream’s. He then broke into a goofy grin, his optics so very blue.   
  
Starscream narrowed his optics. “What?” He half-tensed, expecting to be teased.   
  
Rodimus’ glossa swept over his lips. “You kissed me.”   
  
“Your point?”   
  
Rodimus brushed their nasal ridges together. “I guess I wormed my way into your spark after all, huh?”   
  
Starscream rolled his optics and his frame both, until he straddled Rodimus once more, with the primeling’s spike still within him. There was a hot, sticky mess between their frames.   
  
“You’re ridiculous,” Starscream said, and as soon as he began to shift back, hands clamped on his thighs, keeping him in place.   
  
“Let me guess,” Starscream drawled as he settled back into place, feeling Rodimus’ depressurizing spike shift within him, “you don’t want me to move yet.”   
  
Color entered Rodimus’ face. He lifted his hands. “Sorry,” he said, almost sheepish.  
  
Starscream waved off the apology. “We all have our quirks,” he said, and lifted one corner of his mouth in a smirk. “Perhaps I’ll indulge you at a later time. For now, I am filthy.” He grimaced and squirmed.   
  
“We both are,” Rodimus retorted.   
  
Starscream slid off of him, feeling fluids coating his thighs and array. Rodimus’ groin was liberally spattered as well. Starscream plopped his aft on the berth, grabbing a corner of the berth cover to wipe up the worst of it.   
  
“I noticed,” he said, trying not to look too close at the soiled berth cover.  
  
Rodimus sat up as well, pulling a cloth from subspace and wiping it over his spattered armor. He was covered in scratches and scrapes, Starscream’s darker crimson leaving fairly obvious marks in his plating.   
  
Definitely claimed.   
  
Starscream looked at him. He grinned. “You got a little something,” he said, touching the corner of his own mouth.   
  
Rodimus’ glossa flicked over his lips, though he had a perfectly workable cloth in his hand. “Did I get it?”  
  
“Yes.” Starscream tried not to grimace and failed miserably. “You’re a weird little Autobot, you know that?”   
  
Rodimus gave the rag one last half-sparked swipe over his frame before he tucked it back into subspace. “I’m weird whether or not I’m an Autobot.”   
  
“Mm. Fair point.”   
  
Starscream sat back, bracing himself against the rusting wall of the rented room. Technically, they’d had their overloads. They should go their separate ways. But Starscream felt oddly reluctant to go.   
  
There was something there, something in the silence, that was both familiar and comforting.   
  
“So,” Rodimus said in a perfunctory tone. He leaned back, tilting his head toward Starscream until Autobot blue optics glowed brightly. “Let’s talk about Megatron.”   
  
Starscream’s spark stuttered. “Excuse me?”   
  
“You barged into my affairs, so I’m barging into yours.”   
  
“Affair?” Starscream jerked back, horror written into his feature. “I was _never_ in Megatron’s berth.”   
  
Rodimus’ orbital ridges lifted. “That is an awful vehement response there, Screamer. You sure about that?”   
  
“Positive,” Starscream hissed, his wings hiking upward, sadly betraying his agitation. “Megatron was many things to me, but lover was never one of them.”   
  
Rodimus tilted his helm, something incisive in those blue optics, that spoke to a deeper intelligence than he often displayed. “But you wanted him to be.”   
  
Starscream’s engine growled, before he sighed and shifted away from Rodimus. “There may have been a time,” he admitted, however begrudgingly. “But any torch I carried was rather quickly extinguished when I realized he had no use for my mind or my ambition.”   
  
Rodimus made a non-committal noise. “Well, not that I can blame you. I mean, there’s a reason he got so many people to follow him. He’s got that, I don’t know, that special something, just like Optimus does.” He paused and his field nudged at Starscream’s own. “I wouldn’t think of less of you, if you know, you had fragged him.”   
  
Starscream rolled his optics. “Yes, because your approval is the only thing that I have ever cared about.”   
  
“I’m just saying.”   
  
“I know what you’re saying.” Starscream huffed. “Stupid Autobots. Did you all have nothing better to do than speculate about the berth habits of your enemies?”   
  
“I wouldn’t know. Well, except for the part that there’s this whole file dedicated to trying to figure out why you and Megatron hated each other so much, yet he never managed to kill you. And vice versa.”   
  
Starscream snorted. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, Megatron is impossible to kill.”   
  
“So are you.”   
  
Starscream smirked. “My one claim to fame,” he said airily.  
  
“It must’ve stung, then, when Megatron didn’t have the decency to die.”   
  
He shot Rodimus a narrow-opticked look. “What game are you playing, Autobot?”   
  
Rodimus shrugged though it was far from dismissive. “Hey, you pry into my woes, and I’m going to pry into yours.”   
  
“Just because you had story time doesn’t mean I need to share mine.”   
  
“Maybe. But who else are you going to talk to?”   
  
Starscream’s mouth opened, and closed. The brat had a point. That didn’t mean he had to cooperate, however.   
  
“Just because you’re angry he’s now sharing your quest, that doesn’t give you the right to poke at any open wound,” Starscream said.   
  
“Oh.” Rodimus’ lips curved into a sly smirk. “So it does hurt.”   
  
Blast.   
  
Starscream rubbed his forehead. “No. I realize now that Megatron dying would have only made him a martyr in the optics of the fools who still believe in him.”   
  
“Fools,” Rodimus echoed.  
  
“Yes, I’m well-aware I used to be one of them,” Starscream hissed. “But I have since learned the error of my ways.”  
  
Rodimus chuckled. “The error of your ways?” he repeated. “I’m not one of those lost mechs out there.” He gestured to the city at large. “You don’t have to give me some pre-planned speech.”   
  
“What? You think you’re owed some kind of honesty just because you’ve fragged me?”   
  
Rodimus tilted his head. “Is that your standard reaction to anyone trying to have a conversation with you? Do you always revert to waspish attack mode?”  
  
Silence.  
  
Starscream stared at Rodimus. He gritted his denta until he tasted sparks. Rodimus was poking at an open wound, and there wasn’t a roll of static bandage to be found. “What do you want from me?”   
  
“Nothing.” Rodimus shrugged. His gaze wandered away, focusing past Starscream to a rust stain on the wall. “I mean, I could ask you all kinds of things, like exactly why you were gulping down sub-standard engex in a dive bar, but I guess it’s really none of my business.”   
  
“No, it isn’t.”  
  
“Exactly.” The baby Prime audibly cycled a ventilation and scooted to the edge of the berth, dangling his feet over it. “Guess I’ll be on my way. I’d ask for a handful of creds, but I got the feeling this one’s on the house.”  
  
Starscream narrowed his optics. “If you’re trying to imply that I’m treating you like some kind of buymech, I am not amused.”   
  
“Neither am I.” Rodimus looked at him, frowning, his optics so dim as to be grey. “But you are Starscream, and these are the kinds of games you play.”  
  
“I am not everything the rumors make me out to be,” Starscream hissed. His wings snapped back, rigid and quivering.   
  
“Prove it.”   
  
Starscream’s hands curled into fists. He stared at Rodimus, who tilted his chin in challenge, and Starscream realized that he’d been played. How on Cybertron could he have let a primeling Autobot outmaneuver him.   
  
It was unacceptable. But that was exactly what happened.   
  
“I don’t want Megatron dead,” he said at length.   
  
Rodimus tilted his head, his lip curling.   
  
“I want him humiliated,” Starscream elaborated, his ventilations quickening and his spark shrinking into a tight ball. “I want him stripped of his relevance. I want him to be beaten where it matters, in the optics of those who worshiped him. I want everyone to see him for the failure he is.”   
  
“You mean the one everyone expects you to be.”   
  
He shot Rodimus a glare. “I meant what I said.”   
  
Rodimus held up his hands. “Hey, you don’t have to get snappy with me. I get it, okay? I know a little something about people only expecting failure from you.”   
  
Starscream opened his mouth to disagree, only to snap it shut. Because, like it or not, Rodimus was right.   
  
He was a Prime, and not a Prime. He compared himself to Optimus, yes, but only because everyone around him also insisted on doing so. He held himself to an ideal not even Optimus Prime could match and chastised himself for failing to accomplish it. Not that he had any choice otherwise.   
  
It was so easy to fail when even the simplest mistake could be considered a grievous error. When mechs watched your every move, waiting for your efforts to crumple.   
  
“Yes,” Starscream finally said. “I want to stand over Megatron with success on my shoulders so that he can see I am where I was always meant to be _despite_ him.”   
  
“Or because of him.”   
  
“Never that!” Starscream snarled, his wings hitched upward. “Megatron had nothing to do with anything I managed accomplish. He was nothing more than a noose around my neck, and a chain around my wrists.”   
  
Rodimus leaned back on his hands, his expression perfectly neutral. “You sure about that?”   
  
Starscream’s engine growled. His thrusters warmed, preparing to spit fire, though that would have been unwise given the fire hazard of a berth they currently occupied.   
  
“Quite.”   
  
“If you say so.” Rodimus shrugged, dismissive, but there was something calculating in his tone, in the way he looked at Starscream. “But you know, mechs don’t put up with the things you did without a reason. We never could figure out if you wanted to kill Megatron, if you were just desperately seeking his approval.”   
  
“Approval?” Starscream’s wings jerked so high that his hinges ached. His vocalizer strayed at the upper end of his vocal range.   
  
He shrieked.   
  
It took all he had not to launch himself at the berth and claw Rodimus’ vocalizer out for even suggesting such a thing.   
  
“I never wanted anything from that idiot, least of all his approval!” Starscream growled, his energy field bursting forward, clawed tips on the furthest tendrils.   
  
Rodimus, however, didn’t so much as flinch. “No one tries that hard to throw success in someone’s face if they weren’t secretly seeking their approval.” He paused, and amended with, “or absolution.”   
  
Starscream drew up straight, his frame going taught. There was self-reflection in Rodimus’ tone. An eerie echo of Starscream’s own.   
  
“You wouldn’t hate him if you didn’t care so much,” Rodimus added lastly and then fell into silence. He stared at Starscream as if daring him to contradict.   
  
Starscream sucked in several ventilations, alarmed to find that they rattled. He performed a systems check, forced himself to cycle back. He made his armor smooth; he loosened his wings. He pulled back into himself, inch by inch, his field retreating.   
  
“It’s complicated,” he finally said, at length.   
  
Rodimus arched an orbital ridge. “That’s a cop out.”   
  
“Yes, well, it’s the truth.” Starscream made a vague gesture. “Emotions. Feelings. Motivations. There’s nothing simple about them. It’s not as easy as saying hate or attraction or admiration or… other things.”   
  
He balked at calling it ‘love’. Starscream was pretty sure he couldn’t identify the emotion if he felt it, but he knew for certain that ‘love’ had nothing to do with how he felt for Megatron. Loathing was inaccurate perhaps, but certainly not ‘love’.   
  
Ugh.   
  
“It was a long war,” Starscream added. “And it’s--”  
  
“--complicated,” Rodimus finished. “Yeah, you said that already.” He rolled his shoulders and ex-vented audibly. “Yeah, I guess I can get that. I mean, I admire Optimus a Pit of a lot but there are times…” He trailed off with a wince. “Yeah. I get complications.”   
  
How easily admiration could turn to resentment, Starscream observed. Except in Rodimus’ case, the worse Optimus had ever done was chastise Rodimus, possibly belittle him.   
  
Well.   
  
Starscream sighed to himself.   
  
Sometimes, belittling was all it took. Who was he to discount how much of an effect that could have? With Megatron, belittling and disrespect was only how it started.   
  
They were a lot alike, Starscream realized as he looked at Rodimus. A lot alike and they could truly help one another. Rodimus could do good work here on Cybertron, help bridge the gap that still existed among the three factions, for all that everyone had cast aside their badges.  
  
He was charming, eloquent. Attractive. Starscream wouldn’t mind keeping him.   
  
Megatron had taken his quest. Surely, he needed another.   
  
“Anyway. Guess I’d better go,” Rodimus said with a sigh. He rubbed a hand down his face. “If I’m too late, they might just leave without me. Probably assume I’d abandoned them or something.” He scowled.   
  
The offer died on Starscream’s lips.   
  
“Surely your second would order a delay,” Starscream said as Rodimus hopped down from the berth. He followed the primeling down, hissing as sore cables protested the motion.   
  
Rodimus smiled, but it faltered at the edges. “I’d like to think that, but honestly, I’m not even sure.” The smile faded until it was gone. “I messed up a lot of things. I don’t even know if anyone will be happy I showed up.”   
  
“Then why go?” The question slipped free before he could stop it, and Starscream had to resist the urge to smack himself. He swore that he’d sounded… disappointed.   
  
Rodimus shrugged, though it was far from dismissive. “Because I’m many things, but not a quitter. Because it was my quest to start with. Because I’ll be damned if I leave a crew I’ve failed already in the hands of Megatron.” The last was spoken with a vehemence that Starscream was all too familiar with.   
  
Yes, he and Rodimus were a lot alike indeed.   
  
Starscream unfolded his arms and curved a hand under Rodimus’ chin, pulling the Autobot’s face closer to his. “You are not a failure,” he murmured as he pressed their lips together, giving Rodimus another one of the kisses he so craved.   
  
Rodimus sighed into the kiss, his lips moving against Starscream’s, chaste though it was. “I could argue otherwise.”   
  
Starscream’s free hand groped for Rodimus’, and curled his fingers around Rodimus’ wrist. “I won’t hear a word of it.” He pulled back from the kiss as he pulled Rodimus’ hand toward his face.   
  
He’d plucked the right one apparently, as carved numbers came into view. One-hundred and one over eighty-nine. Starscream wondered if he were to hold an actual election, if his numbers would even be so close.   
  
Mm. No matter.   
  
He held Rodimus’ gaze and grazed his lips over the scored marks.   
  
“You are a work in progress,” Starscream said, and pressed a kiss to the very center of Rodimus’ palm, right over the slash. “You are not a failure.”   
  
Rodimus’ ventilations hitched. His fingers curled inward, stroking Starscream’s cheek before he pulled back, freeing Rodimus’ hand.   
  
“Then neither are you,” Rodimus murmured as he turned his face into Starscream’s gentle grip, pressing a kiss to Starscream’s palm. Only then did he face Starscream again with a little laugh. “Primus help me, but I never thought I’d see the day where I’m actually encouraging you.”   
  
Starscream barked a laugh and released Rodimus’ chin, only to poke the Autobot in the chestplate, right above his badge. “Maybe I’m worming my way into your spark then.”   
  
Rodimus chuckled. “Maybe you are.” He snagged Starscream’s hand and tugged, pulling Starscream into an embrace.   
  
He stiffened, not expecting the hug, until he realized it was not an assault, but a gesture of affection.   
  
Well then.   
  
Starscream relaxed as Rodimus nuzzled the side of his head. The Autobot dragged his lips along the curve of Starscream’s jaw before he pecked his mouth over Starscream’s.   
  
“There. One last kiss for the road,” he said with a smirk.   
  
Starscream snorted. “You are such an odd mech, baby Prime.”   
  
“Right back at you, Screamer. I--” Rodimus broke off, a strange expression on his face.   
  
He stepped back, releasing Starscream, and lifting a hand to his comm. “This is Rodimus. Go ahead.”   
  
He told himself he did not miss the Autobot’s embrace. That Rodimus’ willing warmth was not something he wanted to keep.   
  
Rodimus’ expression darkened further, until it skidded into resignation. “Acknowledged, Magnus. I’ll be there asap.” He dropped his hand and cycled a ventilation. “Well, that’s that.”   
  
Starscream folded his arms over his chestplate. “Don’t expect a tearful goodbye from me.”   
  
“I know better than that.” Rodimus chuckled softly before he gave Starscream a sloppy salute. “Well then, see you around, Starscream. If I survive long enough to make it back to Cybertron again.”   
  
“You will,” Starscream said.   
  
“At least one of us has faith in me.” Rodimus backed toward the door, hitting the panel with an elbow. “Good luck with, you know, all of that.” He made a vague gesture toward Cybertron at large.   
  
Starscream tilted his head. “Given that you’re about to embark on a quest with my former leader, I think you’re the one that’ll need all the luck.”   
  
Rodimus barked a laugh. “Isn’t that the truth though?” He lingered in the doorway, fingers tapping on the jamb as though he wanted to say something else, only to shake his head. Perhaps he thought better of it.   
  
“Take care, Star,” Rodimus said.   
  
And then he was gone before Starscream could say anything else, not that he had the words. Something had been too busy squeezing his spark to provide him a competent means of saying goodbye.   
  
The door rattled shut behind the Autobot.   
  
Starscream audibly ex-vented. He rubbed a hand down his face, his thoughts awhirl.   
  
Primus help him.   
  
He hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. 


	3. Epilogue

  
There wasn’t much left standing in the wake of the clash of titans, but Starscream still managed to find a decent vantage point. It helped, he supposed, that the city and its residents were still licking their wounds, so to speak.   
  
No one paid him much mind or attention. No one was there to see him standing on the roof of a building, watching the Lost Light as it rose steadily into the air. Part of him half-expected it to depart in much the same manner it had before – with an explosive exit.  
  
But, no.   
  
There was nothing to keep the ship from departing. It did not hesitate. It rose steadily, the smallest of crowds beneath to see it off. Starscream had refused to join them.   
  
He couldn’t explain the weird tug in his spark. He couldn’t decide what he felt as he watched the ship rise, knowing that it carried Rodimus not-a-Prime aboard. Knowing that in less than a day, he’d somehow grown attached to the Autobot.   
  
Perhaps there was something addictive about Primes. Or flashy grounders. Or loud-mouthed, arrogant, vulnerable speedsters.   
  
Something.   
  
Starscream gnawed on his bottom lip. He folded his arms over his chestplate. He refused to ping the Lost Light’s comm suite like a lovelorn fool. He and Rodimus had said all they needed to say to one another.   
  
His comm pinged. Starscream answered it while his gaze remained locked on the ship. “What is it?”   
  
“Got a message for you, sir. From the Lost Light.”   
  
Starscream’s orbital ridges drew down. “Pass it through.”   
  
“Yes, sir.”   
  
A datapacket came across the line, coded for privacy, but one Starscream at least had an access key for. Curious, he tapped the attached file and opened it, only for his optics to widen in surprise.   
  
It was a message from Rodimus.   
  
_Just in case_ was all it said. Well, that and a comm code which was no doubt Rodimus’ private line.  
  
Starscream’s spark warmed, dancing in its casing. He saved the file, tagged Rodimus’ comm in his internal suite, and cast a smile toward the departing ship.   
  
Maybe the baby Prime wanted to be kept after all.   
  
Starscream’s lips curved into a grin.   
  
And then he composed a message of his own.   
  


~

  
  
His ship had been prepared.   
  
His crew had been altered. Some had opted to remain behind. Some had opted to be as far from Rodimus as physically possible. Some were forced to be here.   
  
Some had died.   
  
Still, the Lost Light felt like home. Felt like the only place Rodimus could go. What did that say about him?  
  
He fought back a sigh as he strode the unsurprisingly empty corridors. Maybe everyone was buckled up and down, half-expecting another disastrous take off. He couldn’t blame them.   
  
Rodimus headed for the bridge without any enthusiasm in his steps. How could he be excited? This wasn’t a grand launch toward a heroic adventure. This was a limping exit toward a usurped quest.   
  
One he now shared with Megatron.   
  
Ugh.   
  
Rodimus cycled a ventilation. Optimus’ disappointment sat on his shoulders like a disapproving gargoyle, weighing him down. Judging him. Waiting for yet another failure in a string of them.   
  
Rodimus rubbed his optics with the heel of his palm. Primus, what was wrong with him?  
  
He arrived at the bridge and jabbed his free hand at the access panel. As he waited for the doors to open, his comm chimed. His private comm for that matter with an ident code it took him several seconds to recognize.   
  
It was Starscream. He must have gotten Rodimus’ message, though spontaneous and perhaps ill-advised it had been.   
  
_‘See you when you get back.’_   
  
That was all it said. Nothing more, nothing less. But there was implied promise in it. Support. Encouragement.   
  
Rodimus grinned like an idiot.   
  
Wow.   
  
The door whooshed open, and Rodimus stepped onto the bridge. He froze, however, upon sight of Megatron standing there next to Ultra Magnus. From here, all Rodimus could see was the former Decepticon tyrant’s back, but it was more than enough.   
  
Rodimus ground his denta. The urge to turn and stalk out was almost more than he could resist.   
  
It was not too late to turn back toward Cybertron. Surely there wasn’t a mech on this ship who would be sad to see him go.   
  
No.   
  
He would do this. Megatron wasn’t the only one aboard who _owed_.   
  
If Starscream could rule Cybertron, then Rodimus could most certainly do this. This was his ship and his quest. Like frag he’d surrender it to Megatron. Not that easily.   
  
Rodimus set his jaw and strode onto the bridge.   
  
He could do this. Maybe not right away, because that was Megatron right there, but he’d do it.   
  
Eventually.


End file.
